Epilogue, From Mr Yang
by b7-kerravon
Summary: A conversation between 'Yin Yang killer' expert, Mary Lightly, and his pet rat Ben. For those among us who believe that there is more to Mary than meets the eye. SPOILERS for "A Night With Mr. Yang" Not Shules or Slash


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Epilogue, From Mr. Yang**

By Kerr Avon

Mary Lightly's key clicked in the lock of his sparsely-furnished one-bedroom apartment. Opening the door, he headed straight for the kitchen to put on some tea to calm his nerves. "How dare they!" he hissed abruptly as he thumbed through his teabag assortment. Chamomile was best for times like this, when he was so frustrated he could scream. A lemon wedge, a teaspoon of sugar…ah, bliss. Or, at least better. He closed his eyes as he sipped his steaming beverage, then headed towards his rat's cage. He needed someone to talk to, and Ben was a good listener.

Unlatching the top of the Habitrail, he gently plucked the white creature from the wood pellet flooring. He'd been a little nervous about using his pet in the Game, but no one seemed to notice when he slipped the creature safely into his zippered pocket.

"Hey, Ben. Busy day, huh?" Mary produced a small carrot fragment from his pocket and offered it to his small pet, who grasped it eagerly. He then moved over to the couch, carefully cradling the creature. "You were a good boy today, weren't you? You got to go on a field trip to the police station and everything." Offering his furry friend another carrot bit, he settled down with his tea for a good, long brood.

"You know, you just can't trust other people, especially not women besotted with your target," he grumbled. "Claire seemed like the perfect accomplice this time around. I mean, she was already stalking Spencer, and really got off on the idea of killing a girl he was flirting with." He shook his head sadly. "I should have known she'd go off-script just to meet him face-to-face; psychopaths are so unpredictable." He sighed, setting the rat onto the couch cushion and piling a small mound of slivered carrot next to him.

"The first six games were easier; I did all the set-up myself. As each detective lost his challenge, another innocent died. Simple. Those 'smart guys' just weren't good enough." He stroked his rat's back consideringly. "It's not like the victims suffered or anything. Their lives were simply the ultimate price of failure. The _detective_ was the one who suffered."

He stretched out an arm and flicked on the nearby lamp. "I got greedy, though. I wanted to see my target trying to work it out, trying to beat the clock. I wanted to _see_ their anguish when they failed." Jumping to his feet, he began to pace. "I became the 'expert' on the Yin Yang killer; I was the one they called in whenever he struck again. I worked side-by-side with my next two targets, and oh, was it sweet when they found the bodies! They thought themselves so clever; they could take on Mr. Yang and win. Ha! Egotists, the lot of them."

He swung around to address his rat again; after all, only crazy people talked to themselves. "But that meant I needed someone in the field; an accomplice. Someone to drop off the clues when and where I told them to, based on the time on the stopwatch. When the Game was over, they were easily disposed of. After all, sociopaths rarely have close friends to miss them when they disappear."

He stopped and smiled to himself for a moment in satisfaction. "Of course, this time was different. Spencer was good. Better than his father, even. I nearly fainted when he pointed me out as 'Mr. Yang' in the bullpen at the very beginning. I know there's no such thing as psychics, but for a second there…." He took a deep breath, and smiled wider as he exhaled. "I almost believed. It's a good thing that young lady detective discouraged him." He didn't bother remembering O'Hara's name; it wasn't important.

"Shawn actually surprised me when he threw the phone into the ocean, then again when he 'quit'. He kept changing the rules, making me improvise." He resumed his seat and took another sip of tea. "Thank goodness for text-messaging. Claire barely made it out the back door of the office before we barreled in the front!" Ben clambered into his lap, where he began stroking the small rodent once more.

"Too bad she decided to start thinking on her own; if she'd just left as instructed, she'd never have been caught, and that rental car would've gone _boom_." He nodded in acknowledgement, pursing his lips. "Spencer was right about one thing - I planned on killing the victim all along. The only reason his mother is still alive is Claire's need to have Shawn like her. I guess she was OK with killing her rival but not her potential mother-in-law." He held Ben up to his face and stared into beady, black eyes. "Women, huh?"

Standing, Mary headed back to the cage, gently placing his pet on the flooring. He recalled the newspaper ads that lead them to the coal train. "You know, Ben, I slipped up myself once or twice. I must be out of practice. Like with your paper - I got so caught up in the chase that I pointed out that all those people had been prior cases he'd worked. If I, as an expert profiler for the Yin Yang killer, had truly started the case when Chief Vick called me, I'd have had no way to know all the details of Spencer's career like I did. 'Google' or not, I was supposed to be an expert on the _serial killer_, not on the 'psychic detective'." He smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Still, no one figured that out. I'll have to be more careful next time."

He squatted down and tapped on the plastic side of the cage. "First, poor Claire has to have a little accident. While I always met her in disguise, she might put two-and-two together. I don't want to take that chance." He straightened, then went back to sit contemplatively on the couch. Picking up his tea once more, he concluded, "I'll give it a few months to calm down…then, I think there will be a copycat." He chuckled to himself, "Let's see how good Mr. Spencer is against me alone."

Shaking his head, Mary snorted derisively. "Racquetball. As if."

The End

Author's note: I have watched the episode three times now, and have become more and more convinced that Mary was part of the plot. He just knew too much about Shawn; he was an expert in the killer, not in "Shawn Spencer". He simply didn't have the time to learn all that stuff about Shawn, unless he knew it already. Anyway, I'd love to hear your theories on it.


End file.
